


i don't care, i'm not scared

by 1000_directions



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Sexual Inexperience, Small Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 12:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11759742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000_directions/pseuds/1000_directions
Summary: Louis could have said something before; he can’t say anything now. He screws his eyes shut and holds his breath and feels Eleanor's hand slip inside his joggers, until she’s right there, until his tiny dick is nestled there right under her hand.Louis is probably in love with Eleanor, but there's one small problem.





	i don't care, i'm not scared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunsetmog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/gifts).



It’s about two months into Louis and Eleanor dating that it becomes clear to him that this is  _it_ , this is the night when he takes his kit off in front of her and lets her see how small his dick is, and either she decides to be with him anyway or she leaves him for someone fitter. He really likes her, is the thing. He wouldn’t be here right now if he didn’t. They’re snogging on his bed, and he’s got both his hands around her waist, and he can feel the warmth of her skin through her thin t-shirt. She’s proper beautiful, the kind of girl he dreamed about when he first realised what his dick was and what it wanted, before he figured out how small and disappointing it was compared to most.

He had a few drinks earlier tonight, just enough to get him out of his head a little, maybe make him a bit brave. He’s probably in love with Eleanor. She was the one who’d asked to take things slow, and he’d agreed, of course. But it’s just going to hurt that much worse when she turns him down, now that he’s had some time to really get to know her and get used to her being around. Now that he knows how her peppermint chapstick makes the tip of his tongue tingle, now that he’s seen her laughing and lovely and stroppy and sexy and all the rest of it. She’ll be nice about it, he thinks. She’s probably too kind to laugh at him like other girls have done. But she’s spent two months of her life dating who she thought was some really impressive popstar, and tonight she’s going to find out that he’s just...him.

He runs his hand slowly up and down her side over her shirt, and then he slips beneath, his fingers bumping softly over each rib, his palm resting lightly on her velvet skin. This is about as far as they normally go. He’s seen her boobs exactly twice, touched them bare once, and they’d looked small and proud on her chest, but they felt massive when he tried to get each of his hands around one, soft and heavy, spilling out every which way when he gave them a tentative squeeze. And Eleanor had laughed a little, face flushed, lips bitten, and she’d let him play for a few minutes before she said, “All right, that’s enough of that,” and put her top back on. It was easily one of the three best nights of his life, and he’s wanked over it every day since, and he wonders if he’ll get to see them again before she breaks it off.

“I trust you,” she says, and it’s so quiet that he barely hears it, has to play the words back in his head a few times before he really understands. “Is that foolish of me, Lou? Putting my trust in someone who isn’t going to be around much, someone who’s going to travel the world and meet a thousand girls prettier than me, girls who would do anything you asked them to?”

“You’re not foolish,” he says. He would never cheat on her, not ever, no matter what, but he hasn’t told her how small he is, and not telling her feels like a lie, so maybe she shouldn’t trust him. He doesn’t  _know_.

“Are you serious about me?”

“I’ve never felt so serious about anyone in my life,” he says, and at least he knows that’s honest. He means it down to his core.

“When my mum talks about you, she calls you my boyfriend,” she says. “Is that what we are? Am I your girlfriend?”

“If you want to be,” he says, and his words get muffled by how loud his heart is beating in his ears.

“But what do  _you_  want?” she asks. Her eyes are so big, and she looks scared and sad and lovely, and he doesn’t want to disappoint her. His palm is sweating against her skin, but he doesn’t pull it away.

“Think I’m crazy about you,” he says slowly. “Think I’d be proud to call you my girlfriend.”

She smiles then, slow and brilliant, and he feels all twisted up inside. He has to tell her. She’s going to find out. But the thought of losing this, late night texts and goofy selfies and her head tucked against his shoulder and the way she smells and those times when she leans over and kisses him so softly for no reason at all... It’s only been two months, but he doesn’t want to lose this.

But just for now, he keeps quiet, and he lets her kiss him. He lets her roll him onto his back, and he watches her shuffle on top of him, one slim leg on either side of his body. She settles down into his lap, and she’s warm and solid above him.

“You’re beautiful, El,” he says, and she smiles a bit and then pulls a face. She’s not one for taking a compliment gracefully, and he loves that about her.

“Okay then,” she says softly, as if to herself, and then she takes her top off. She’s got on a light blue bra with little bits of lace ‘round the edges, and he can just make out the shadows of her nipples poking against the fabric. Louis is so hard he can barely stand it. He wonders if she can even tell, if she can feel it at all from where she’s sitting right on his cock.

He’s lost so in his own head that he must have been quiet for too long, because Eleanor frowns a little and says, “Isn’t this what you want?”

“Course,” he says, and he lets his hands explore her, starting low on her hips and inching his way up. He reckons he’ll keep going until she stops him, so he chances it and goes for her tits, because if this is the last time, he’s going to make it count. He pushes them together so that she’s practically bursting out of her bra, then he lets them fall back to where they hang naturally, feeling the insistent prod of her hard nipples under his palms. She’s so fit, she’s  _so_  fucking fit, and he squeezes and pinches and kneads at her, until he feels her fingers at his waistband, and then he lets his hands rest lightly on her sides, because he doesn’t think it’s good form to get your heart broken with your hands full of boobs.

He could have said something before; he can’t say anything now. He screws his eyes shut and holds his breath and feels her hand slip inside his joggers, until she’s right there, until his tiny dick is nestled there right under her hand. She’s touching him through his pants, just a whisper of pressure, but even that much is excruciatingly good. He’s so, so hard, his entire dick caged under her small hand. No one else has touched him in so long. He hasn’t let anyone else touch him in so long.

He waits for her to make a mocking comment, or to stop and pull her hand away in disgust, or to laugh. He waits for all the things that happened all the other times he tried to do this with other girls. He waits, and he keeps waiting, and she tightens her grip and rolls her palm right over his cockhead, and his hips come up automatically as he shudders. He feels a little pre-come leak out, getting his pants wet and probably going right through to Eleanor’s perfect skin on her perfect hand, and he’s such a fuck-up, and he knows he’s going to ruin everything. There’s no way he gets to keep this.

“Did I do something wrong?” Eleanor asks. He opens his eyes and looks up at her, and her eyes are huge and worried. “Do you...do you not like it this way? Should I do something different?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“You...you keep making faces like I’m doing it wrong,” she says in a small voice. “Do you want me to...like, my mouth? Do you like that better?”

“El,” he says, feeling a little like he’s lost the plot. “Love, you’re perfect. I’m the one who’s all screwed up. It’s okay, you can just say it.”

“I’m sorry if I’m not, like, any good,” she says, her voice wavering. “I haven’t done this too many times before, but if you tell me what you like, I can try, okay?”

Louis realises they’re having two entirely different conversations, so he steels himself for what’s about to happen and shucks off his joggers and pants so that he’s lying there starkers, completely exposed, his tiny dick leaking against his tummy like it still thinks it’s going to see some action tonight. He defiantly meets Eleanor’s gaze, and he waits.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Lou,” she says after a minute.

“Aren’t you going to laugh?”

“Laugh at what?”

“ _This_ ,” he says venomously, gesturing at his dick. “Just laugh and get it over with already.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks. “I don’t understand, Lou. What’s wrong with it?”

“Really, El? You ever shag a bloke with a prick this small before?”

“I’ve shagged one bloke before,” she says quietly. “Just the one bloke a few different times. And to tell you the truth, I don’t remember that much about his prick because he wasn’t very nice, but yours seems fine to me.”

“I’m really, really small. I’ve never seen one this small on anyone else. You deserve better than to be with a freak, El.”

She’s crying now, just a little bit, and that won’t do. That won’t do at all. All thoughts of his dick leave his mind, and he focuses his attention on his beautiful, crying Eleanor. Louis sits up and wraps her up in his arms. She tucks her wet face into his neck, and he rubs his hand in small circles over her back. He knows how to do this part, at least. He’s always been good at this part.

“Do you like me?” she whispers into his neck.

“Course I do, El. I fancy you rotten.”

“I fancy you rotten, too,” she says, lifting her head to look at him. “It took a long time for me to feel like I wanted to be with someone else. But I want to be with you. You’re the best guy I know, and you treat me better than anyone ever has. I don’t care about whatever you think is wrong with you, because it’s not. It’s  _not_. Everything about you is so lovely, and I’m so scared I won’t be good enough and you won’t want to be with me anymore.”

“You’re my favourite person,” he says softly. He cups her cheek in his hand and thumbs away her tears. “I spend so much time thinking about you that I’m going crazy with it. I’m mad about you, El, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed,” she says. “I just want to be with you.”

“That’s what I want, too.”

“I really might not be very good,” she says.

“I might not be very good either,” he says, shaking his head.

“We can figure it out together,” she says. She turns her head to kiss his palm. “I trust you, Louis Tomlinson.”

“I trust you, too, Eleanor Calder.”

“Good. Now lie back down.” He does, and she looks down at his dick. He’d softened up a bit during their talk, but just the weight of her considering gaze is getting him hard again.

“Change your mind about wanting a boyfriend with a small prick?” he asks. He’s joking, but he’s dead serious.

“Bet I could fit the whole thing in my mouth,” she muses. She gives him a devilish smile. “Wanna see me try?”

Before he can say anything, she’s leaned over and swallowed down his whole dick. No one’s ever done this for him before, and he groans at the feeling, the wet heat of her perfect tight mouth as she tongues at the underside. It’s unreal, and he’s going to come embarrassingly quick just from this.

“Gonna come,” he grits out, and Eleanor pulls off.

“Think you could hold off long enough to fuck me a little? I just want to feel you inside me, even if it’s not for very long.”

“Might not feel it at all,” he grumbles, and she frowns.

“Hey,” she says. “Don’t you dare talk about my boyfriend like that.”

He wonders if Eleanor is in love with him just like he’s in love with her. She might be. She just might be.

“I’ll just get a condom then,” he says, and it’s a miracle he even has any, an absolute miracle, but he does, and he gets it on himself while Eleanor watches with dark eyes.

“I thought I’d want to be on top,” she says, “but I think I’d rather be on my back. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Louis says. “Anything I can do to make it good for you, I will.”

“I trust you,” she says, and then she shucks off her jeans and pants together, and he sees her for the first time. She lies on her back and spreads her legs a little, and he takes a minute just to look at her. She has a neat triangle of hair above her pussy, which is already gleaming. He moves closer to her, slowly, and she looks up at him serenely. She trusts him. He spreads her lips gently with his thumbs, catching her wetness and spreading it around. She whimpers, and he kisses her high up on her inner thigh.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says as he positions himself above her. She cradles his face in her hands, looking straight into his eyes as he pushes into her.

She’s tight. He worried he was so small that he’d just slip inside without either of them feeling it at all, but she’s tight around him, and he lets out one shuddery breath and then another. And then she’s kissing him, just light, delicate brushes of her mouth against his, but it’s so much, and he’s not really breathing, and he’s not moving inside her, he’s just trapped in this perfect fucking moment, Eleanor’s hands on his face and her mouth on his mouth and her perfect body swallowing up his cock. He never thought he’d get to have this. It’s almost too much.

“Fuck me,” she whispers into his mouth. “Show me what you can do and just fuck me already.”

He rocks his hips experimentally, pulling out just a little before thrusting back in. He doesn’t want to slip out, but he wants to move enough that she’s feeling  _something_. He tries different things, swiveling his hips a little when he thrusts, grinding in hard once he’s all the way inside her.

“Is it okay?” he asks her, almost afraid to know. Because it’s so good for him, it’s fucking amazing for him, but it needs to be good for Eleanor, too.

“It’s perfect,” she says breathlessly. “Wanted to feel you inside me so badly, Louis.” She wraps one leg and then the other around his hips, driving him deeper in a way that makes them both moan. “Feel so fucking good in me.”

He’s a little more reckless with his thrusting now; Eleanor’s holding him inside, and she won’t let him go. He pounds into her the best he can, and it’s not going to be much longer, he isn’t going to survive much more of this. He lasts just a couple more thrusts, and then he’s coming inside her, coming inside  _Eleanor_ , and he never thought he’d get this, but he has this right now, his small dick in her warm, tight body as he comes and comes.

She just might be the love of his life, he’s realizing.

He slips out of her and rolls onto his side. She’s got her eyes shut and her hand moving down her body, between her legs. She tucks two fingers inside herself and plants her feet on the bed. Her thigh muscles tense as she thrusts up at nothing, grinding her palm down over her clit. The hair at the nape of her neck is so sweaty as he brushes it away to kiss her skin. She still has her bra on, but the straps have slipped down over her shoulders and the fabric is barely containing her anymore. So he helps her the rest of the way out, easing the lace down until her boobs are gloriously uncovered. He thumbs at one of her nipples, and she moans, so he gets brave and leans over, swiping at it with his tongue. She cries out then, and he can feel the way her body tenses and then releases, and he keeps his mouth on her as she shudders through her orgasm, her chest rising and falling violently with each breath she sucks in, and he’s just along for the ride.

When her breathing starts to even out, he slides down her body and between her legs. She’s so wet now that she’s dripping, and there’s a damp spot on the sheets, and he just ducks in and touches his tongue to where she’s wettest. She groans and swats at his head, but he stays there for a moment longer. This is his girlfriend now, and he wants to know what she tastes like when she comes. These are things he needs to know now.

“Are you quite finished?” she grouses at him when he pulls away and crawls back up the bed to her.

“Quite,” he says, wrapping her up in his arms. She’s sweaty as anything, but so is he. “Was that okay, El?” He’s trying to be cool about it, but he’s bricking it. He wants to do this again with her, wants to do  _everything_  with her, and he’s really, really hoping it was all okay.

“Did you miss how hard I just came?” she says with a laugh. “It was perfect, Lou. You were perfect.”

“ _You_  were perfect,” he says. “You got me so hard and held me so tight. You knew just what to do with your body. Made it so good for me.”

“I’m glad it was you,” she says softly. “People thought I was mad for waiting for someone good to come along, but I waited, and here you are.”

“Here I am,” he says. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” she repeats with a smile. She leans her head on his shoulder the way he loves, her long hair spilling all over his chest. He reaches for her hand, holds it tight in his, brings it up to his mouth and kisses it tenderly as she says, “Here we are, my darling.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](http://1000-directions.tumblr.com/post/164006756204/i-dont-care-im-not-scared-by-1000directions)


End file.
